The Drawing Board
by PrayTonight
Summary: Miley is recruited as S.H.I.E.L.D. weapons and vehicles designer, aiding everyone in any way she can. And her life, though hectic and unusual, had been normal... until Director Fury came up with an idea; The Avengers Initiative. STEVE ROGERS/CAPTAIN AMERICA x OC
1. Vehicles & Air Crafts of Tomorrow

**Oh God, if there is one thing I hated the internet about, it's virus'! Stupid little bugs getting in and messing up my system and erasing whatever great fics I have in store for you precious readers. Anyway, I know it's been a while since I've updated but I must say there's going to be some changes on some of my fics; two of them will be erased and one of them will be rewritten. _IGARO,CWUS?_ and _TLHOP_ will be deleted and _Messiahs and Pariahs_ will be rewritten to become a more... interesting fic with SPN crossing the DMC universe. Trust me, I know what I'm doing and I hope a lot of people will thank me for this.**

**So, I can see (look at the number of fics written on the site) that the Avengers is well loved and well appreciated from how awesome, funny, and epic it is. Honestly when I first heard of the Avengers becoming a film... I was kinda skeptical. But that was many YEARS ago and I love what I saw! It makes me want to go and watch over and over again but instead I'll waite excitedly in September for the release date so I can claw my way in the store and buy it off the stacks and hide in my room while the family can just wait for me to finish. Anyway, I'm going to stop babbling and let you read what I have for you. Enjoy!**

* * *

**~+~ 2oo6 ~+~**

_"What is that...?"_

_"Uh..."_

_"That's interesting."_

_"... Huh."_

_"I best she photoshop'd it."_

_"Bet she had someone do that for her."_

_"... Did she draw this?"_

_"No way!"_

_"This looks like something from science fiction!"_

_"What a sci-fi nerd."_

_"Yeah, no kidding."_

_"There's no way they'd take this seriously."_

_"It's stupid."_

Miley O'Connor stood a little off to the side from the display people not-so-discreetly spoke about that she had worked over in the few short months for this special event that was a sort of EXPO in the High School gym. She just went off to grab a cup of fruit punch and returned, only to find a small crowd gathered around her blue prints and listened with a heavy heart of everyone's dismissal of her hard work.

"C'mon, lets go check out Roy's flying lawn mower!"

'Yeah, take crack shots on my work and be drawn to a possible dangerous machine with swirling razors.' she watched the small group of girls disperse elsewhere and the crowd losing quick interest to turn to their children's work.

Her father is still working, and will continue to work until 9 o'clock in the afternoon. It is understandable that he has to work hard for the money to support them both but Miley couldn't help but be a little disappointed that her father can't make it to this important day; The Vehicles & Air Crafts of Tomorrow. The young dark-haired girl stands before her blue prints and can only scoff in her head at how ridiculous this thing is. Of course, the idea of something like this ever coming true is slim to none.

"What was I thinking?" she whispers and moves to take down the paper.

"Now that," someone speaks up from behind her. "is really something."

Pulling away she turns to face a man in a dark immaculate suit with shiny shoes to match. His dark hair slowly balding and his expression revealing nothing but interest as he takes in every detail of her work. He steps forward and offers a hand which she shyly takes for a brief moment.

"Phil Coulson." he introduces himself and returns his gray eyes to the blue prints. "This is very extraordinary, Ms. O'Connor."

"Uh, thank you." she quietly replies.

"Our Agency, the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, is very interested in your work."

It took her a few seconds for her brain to remember the whole name and seeing her bug-eyed expression, Mr. Coulson only chuckles and says they are still working on a proper name for the agency so it wouldn't have people's heads spinning from trying to remember it.

"Your... your agency?" she continues on with subject.

"Yes, we're going around and recruiting the most brilliant and talented to help our cause," he gestures in front of him, to her work. "And you, Ms. O'Connor, are one of them."

Is he joking?

"This isn't a prank, I assure you. Strictly business."

... can he read minds?

"No, I'm not reading your mind. You just have a very expressive face."

"Okay," she quickly changes the subject. "Your agency, some division I've never so much as heard of, wants to recruit a little girl that just barely turned 15?"

"Need I remind you that if you really wanted to, you could have aced through high school and entered college by the time you were 15?"

She eyed him a little wearily.

"We read your file, Ms. O'Connor. You're I.Q. is remarkable."

She looks away and quietly says, "I couldn't afford college, besides... my mom..."

"I'm very sorry to hear about that. Actually, should it come to financials, the Agency is willing to pay you very big money if you decide to join us."

She turned to Mr. Coulson with some hope in her eyes.

"We can pay for any debts, bills, anything really so that you and your father have comfortable lives in the future."

No more of dad working ridiculous hours in the factory where somebody loses a finger or two to the dreadful machines, no more of dad trying so hard to put food on the table, no more lonely nights with a mind being the only company she had.

"Were do I sign up?"

Mr. Coulson only smiles and faces the board once more and asks, "What do you call this?"

"That?" she can't help but let a smirk come over her face. "I call this the _Helicarrier_."

An image of a hybrid aircraft carrier with 4 coaxial propellers took the space of the wide dull blue paper stamped into the hard board to show all of what may be the future.


	2. From Italy with Trouble

**Okay, now we get to the good stuff. I know I've updated too quickly but I just wanted to get this thing across and besides I might get a few points for this. Yeah, so the first chapter is a flashback but now this is the present, time to see what happened six years later after Agent Coulson's offer is taken to join the mysterious agency with the long name. I don't know a lot about the science/math/mechanics of stuff but I will try and pretty much be vague of it as possible... I don't want to sound stupid or whatever. Alright, enjoy the chapter you Marvel fans!**

**p.s. I'm going to change the POV into First because Third Person is just not my forte.**

* * *

**~+~ 2o12 ~+~**

Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye, a runaway having joined the circus with his brother whom later died only to find audience with the Director one night that gave him a choice to join an organization, one of the top agents besides Romanoff that he himself recruited years ago, sat in a little waffle house.

And why is he in such a waffle house?

Because there is to be a meeting conducted here.

No, it isn't one of those secret, undercover meetings where people are pointing guns under the table out of paranoia or people in dark suits with shady business hidden in their briefcases. Just a small meeting between two co-workers because the joint of this place served really good waffles in the morning that made mouths water, that and because Clint was... excited.

The kid has a surprise for him, something she had in the works for a week since Clint's last mission that almost got him killed because his precious bow got destroyed when things got pretty nasty and he only got out without any bullet holes in him because Natasha had his back. Occupying himself for the time being, he played with his plate full of waffles. Yes, it is immature and it got him some glares by some parents who are telling their kids to stop copying the older man from making a literal version of a waffle house.

... Now he just needed something to keep the waffle door from falling out of its place every time he poked it.

Familiar footstep patterns alerted Clint of the person he is waiting for, putting all the stops on his little project he turns his head to a minimum so that he can greet his co-worker with a warm welcome.

"Did you fall and slip into a coma while I was waiting?" he checked his wrist and turned back to her. "I've been waiting for you for so long~"

"I was stuck in traffic! And the subway was crowded and pushy, someone was even groping me from behind!" I defend myself as I sit next to the older man. "It's not my fault that I'm in the most aggressive—and perverted—city in the whole world!"

"There's nothing to grab. You got a flat butt." Clint replied, peering at my backside.

"What are you doing? Stop looking!" I shrieked in horror, slapping his arm to make him stop.

"So," Clint looks pointedly at her. "What do you have for me."

"Oh, right!" my mood changing course so fast that Clint worried for a second I might have suffered a whiplash. I pull in view a small duffel bag and hand it over to him. "Don't open it now though, you have to wait until your shielded from civilian eyes."

"Now you're just making me anxious." he smirked at me and I only let out a small laugh, ordering a mug of warm coffee. "You coming along with me to HQ?"

"Sorry, but I'm getting my weekend off. I'm gonna take my dad to Italy. He's been wanting to taste their wine, he said." I explain as I pull out a $5 to pay for the coffee and tip the waiter. "I'll see you next week, Clint. Say _"hi"_ to Mr. Coulson for me."

"Yeah, see ya,"

Gathering my things, I give a simple tap to Barton's shoulder and leave the waffle house to grab a taxi ride home and pack away my things while dad catches his own ride to meet me at home (I'm going to say Colorado, they don't mention where S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ is in the movie) and we'd both catch a flight to our intended destination.

* * *

**Palermo, Sicily**  
**7:22 p.m.**

"This is where they filmed the Godfather,"

"Really?"

"Yeah, yeah! I know this, I've seen the movies a hundred times to know."

"Only you, dad. Only you."

Me and dad stand outside the Teatro Massimo and discussing movie topics of where the places in Italy that people filmed for their movies, ignoring the tourists. A tip from an agent and some equipment to find where the good spots in Italy are, I convinced dad that'd we be fine on our own and I made sure to always follow the instructions given to me so that me and dad don't end up being easy targets for street thugs or pick-pockets. The last three days in this place are nothing but simple, fun, and interesting and it makes me happy that dad is so care-free and not troubled like from years ago.

I still can remember the dumbstruck look he had on his face when my first paycheck came in through the mail, my money much more than what he earns in a whole month. The following months the same as more designs from my sketches and hard drive is sent to the long- named agency that has grown and flourished over the years, the worries and doubts of my dad slipping away and leaving nothing but hope and content.

"C'mon, lets go eat. I'm starving." he announces randomly and I can only laugh at his back.

"We just ate an hour ago!"

"I'm hungry for pizza. Lets go see them do those pizza tossing tricks they like to do."

"Oh my God, dad..." I shake my head and look into my iPhone to see where's a good pizza restaurant.

An hour later we're eating outside a restaurant called Vinni's, watching from an open window as a man tosses the pizza-in-making in awesome and acrobatic ways that we and few others clap him in praise of his pizza-tossing talents whilst we enjoy the pizza given to us as we ordered them. Dad with his ultimate and mine with my pepperoni.

With all the clapping going on inside and the noise from the people walking about in the Sicilian streets, I can barely hear the sound of a phone going off that I have to strain my ears to listen for it.

_And I'll stay here_  
_You'll be gone for another year_  
_The plans that I've made_  
_Are falling on deaf ears—_

"Oh, my God!" I quickly reach in my purse for my iPhone and answer. "O'Connor."

**_"O'Connor, get your ass back here. Right now!"_** came Hill's voice.

"Ms. Hill?" I stiffen up in my seat, full alert and catching dad's attention.

_**"We've got a situation and we need you A.S.A.P.—"**_

"I'll head back to HQ as fast I can." I offer dad an apology and he only nods in understanding. Bless the old man.

**_"No! No, it's gone."_**

"What?" I don't realize I'm on my feet at this point, catching a few unwanted attention to some bystanders. "What do you mean it's gone?"

_**"All part of the big situation we're in, look, Fury is ordering all agents back! We'll be holding everything in the Helicarrier from now on until further notice."**_

"Where do I meet you?"

**_"Get a ticket to New York, we'll find you there once you're in range."_**

"I'm on my way!"

_**"See you until then, O'Connor."**_

I shut the phone and grab my things, and dad stands up to follow, paying the unfinished pizza as we head back to the hotel we're staying at. I explain to dad about what little I can—The Director made it clear that whatever happens in S.H.I.E.L.D., stays in S.H.I.E.L.D.—of the situation happening at work that I'm very much needed and dad can only nod his head in understanding as I gather all my things.

"Um, I-I'll make it up to you somehow, I promise!" I tell him as I hurry around.

"It's okay sweetheart, I know from experience how work is." he waves his hand around. "I'm living the dream at the moment. Although I'm sad we can't stay together long enough, I'm okay."

"There's enough money for you to keep going on without me." I point out and give dad one last hug. "I'll see you soon as I can, I love you dad."

"Love ya, too." he hugs me just as fiercely. "Be safe, baby."

And I'm out of the room the next minute.

* * *

**New York, New York**  
**4:55 a.m.**

No sooner that I step out of the plane I'm greeted by a familiar agent; Jasper Sitwell.

"O'Connor,"

"Agent Sitwell," I greet him as I approach and we both continue on, showing our badges and getting my things quickly as we leave for where we'll be meeting the others.

Settling inside the black SUV waiting outside of the airport, Sitwell hands over a folder with a deep red imprinted logo stamped **CLASSIFIED** and since I'm a very small-time agent, it must be very important if the Director wants me in on this big thing that's happening. I open the folder and read the first big black bold letters;

**OPERATION: THE AVENGERS INITIATIVE**

"The Avengers Initiative?" I look up to Sitwell.

"Last night the base was under attacked by an unknown extraterrestrial that called himself _"Loki"_ and brainwashed two of our own men; Dr. Erik Selvig and Agent Barton."

I let a choked sound, wide-eyed and panic slowly rising in my chest.

He paused for a moment before correcting himself. "They are unharmed. Just under the influence. During the confusion, he also stole something very important that he had."

"Something important...?"

"The Tesseract."

"... Oh dear."

The Tesseract had been something recovered by the agency when on a trip to Antarctica, I wasn't given much detail but the Director made me along with Erik Selvig as one of the few who would know about the strange cube that had unknown potential. There was a thought that this thing could serve as mankind's best way in making a power source so that gas and electricity would be saved. Nowadays people are switching to solar power to keep the world green, inventing a lot of other things to just make it safe and not make a bigger whole in the atmosphere. Back to the point in hand, the Tesseract is still mysterious and possibly dangerous, and we had to do whatever to protect ourselves should an ugly side affect to having the Tesseract in our hands come to light.

During the scuffle of Loki taking the two and several agents he brainwashed with his scepter, the building collapsed and everyone had evacuated thankfully. Only a few people died from the incident, I only listened with a sad heart that Barton and Dr. Selvig are gone, taken away and controlled by some guy claiming to be a god from another realm. That realm talk kind of reminded me of an astrophysicist and weird but good-natured guy from a while back but the folder brought me back to reality. I carefully read the files, taking in old pictures of events during WWII, the recent events between Tony Stark as Iron Man and the damage on Dr. Bruce Banner's out-of-control alter ego.

What in the world is the Director thinking?

"O'Connor?"

We're parked outside of a landing pad where there is a small group of people waiting outside of one of my recently developed aircraft carriers I made over a year ago; The Quinjet.

"Uh, my stuff..." I look down on my duffel bag.

"Don't worry, we'll be dropping them off at your house. We also have some of your belongings up in the Helicarrier."

"Okay then, I'll be seeing you around Agent Sitwell." I say my farewell and make my way to the others.

Upon approach I spot someone standing out of the men in dark suits, dressed in a brown leather bomber jacket, blue and white checkered flannel shirt with a white tee underneath, khaki pants and brown shoes tucked under. He was... tall. Much taller than the people that are towering over me, like a building with two feet!

Okay, I'm a little late bloomer on the growth spurt, I've been stuck in 5'0'' since I was 14! Other people mistake my appearance to be close to a 16 year old girl hanging out with the adults, the topic of my short stature a bit sensitive but some people didn't care and went ahead on nicknaming _"short-stack"_, _"kiddo"_, and my least favorite _"bean-sprout"_.

"I'm here!" I announce and the others take that as a sign to get on the Quinjet and finally go to where we are being summoned.

"Glad to see you're back, did you enjoy your trip Ms. O'Connor?" Agent Phil Coulson appears by my side and eying my appearance. I blink up at him and realize to my horror that on my way from Italy to New York I never took the opportunity to get out of my yellow T-shirt with dark sunflower imprints, white boot cut jeans and silver stiletto sandals. I even still have my white sunhat on!

"Oh crap..." I mutter and look up to Coulson.

"Duty calls." the older man only says and pushes me forward by the small of my back.

"She's coming with us?" a new voice cuts through, sounding shocked and appalled. "She's just a kid!"

I look around Coulson to come face-to-face, no scratch that, face-to-chest with the bomber jacket guy who looked neat and tidy... and big and muscled... and ridiculously handsome with blond hair and bright blue eyes—

"Ms. O'Connor turned 21 two months ago." Coulson fills him in and gesturing him to follow, his voice making me come back to reality once again and I blush from having been goggling his ubber hot features. "It's very difficult now these days to determine a person's age."

"Oh," the blond hunk mutters and looks to me to apologize but finds that I'm missing and well on ahead in boarding on alone with the rest of everyone while those two lagged behind.

I quickly catch a seat with a familiar agent, Tim Jackals, another blond cutie but I've known him since my first day with S.H.I.E.L.D. and viewed him more like an older brother figure. Jackals is almost 30 years old but retains the look of a 20-something year old guy with short-cut sandy blond hair, gray-blue eyes and a cute freckles here and there (I'm going to portray him as Garrett Hedlund). He makes a face at my get-up.

"Where were you?" he openly looks me up and down.

"Italy." I reply, pulling off my sunhat and putting on headgear.

"Uh-huh," he looks away and towards the wide opening on the back of the Quinjet.

I let out a deep breath through my nose and keep my eyes to the ground, not paying any attention at all to the definition of masculinity sitting across from me. I just pray that the flight is short and we'll reach to the Helicarrier in a small amount of time so I can tidy up, look professional in my S.H.I.E.L.D. suit and get to work on helping out with the best of my abilities. We feel a jolt and the sound of Quinjet coming to life suddenly calms me a bit, I really can't explain it but I just love the sound of something I myself worked hard in making and bringing it to life from the sketches and blue prints. It's a beautiful and wonderful feeling.

A nudge against my ribs alerts me and I look to Jackals in question but he doesn't turn to me, staring out his window.

"He's staring at you." he whispers quietly, I almost didn't hear him.

I look forward and indeed the guy from before, who mistook me to being a little kid, is staring at me but when we catch each others eyes he quickly averts his gaze to his shoes. Most guys with a physique like his are mostly confident, brash, big-headed, and very promiscuous... yet there was an air about him that retained none of the above. He was quiet, kept to himself, and just looked very out of place. I look over to Coulson and see an unusual giddy look on his face. He looked... happy?

'I'll bother him some other time.' I promised myself and lean back against my seat, hugging myself and taking the moment to get some shut eye. Hopefully I won't bend my head back to the point my mouth will open and make God-awful snoring noise... it will be a very deep wound that will take an eternity to heal.

"You cold?" Jackals looks down at my slouched form.

"I'm okay, I just need to sleep off a little. Wake me up when we get there, yeah?"

"Here, let me..." he struggles to take off his blazer and I smile at his insistent need to always look out for me when dad's not around to do that.

"Here." we both look in front to see a jacket pushed to my direction. Mr. Look-at-my-bulging-muscles is holding his own, looking a little embarrassed but inclined to do so anyway regardless.

"I-I'm okay, really—" I stutter but stop when the jacket is draped on me anyway and I shiver a little from the warmth it provides... along with the unique scent is went along with. I just prayed it was the jacket, not the guy's earthly smell.

"Sorry to say ma'am but you're shivering like an ice cube." he lightly jokes and I shyly look away. "I'm Steve. Steve Rogers. And I'm sorry about earlier."

"What a gentlemen." Jackals dryly remarks, earning a sharp look from Coulson and a blank one from Rogers. Like I said, Jackals takes over when dad's not around, and he's got that look in his eye that says he will run that boy out of town if he has to.

"I am... little... I'm used to being a little person so it shouldn't surprise me that people assume I'm some little girl." I shrug and offer a small smile. "Miley O'Connor. Nice to meet you Mr. Rogers."

"Please, call me Steve." he smiles boyishly I can feel my insides squeal.


	3. All Aboard

**I was going to post this on July the 4th but due to the fact my dad dragged me away to visit our relatives and watch some fireworks I didn't really get the chance to finish this and post it. Sorry, this was really important but better late than never, right? Happy Independence Day, and Happy Birthday Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain America (I laughed out loud when I found this little info)! I hope to get a lot of people review, I've had so many put this on their list of story alerts on whatnot but the sad thing, not a single review. Just two reviews.**

**Makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong here. Sometimes I feel like erasing the story because no one is really saying anything, no one is leaving behind messages, just choosing to remain quiet. I don't like that, be it a fan or some big critic someone should always leave a message behind. I'm beginning to be part of this small movement in the fanfic site where people who are viewing other fellow author's stories leave behind a review, not becoming one of those read 'em and leave 'em type of people. Anyway, please remember to read and REVIEW!**

* * *

** ~+~2oo7~+~**

A knock on my hotel door was the signal of my first day with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

Graduation wasn't really big, just walking up the stage dressed in blue garbs and a cap, shaking hands with a teacher and receiving a  
diploma before walking off and returning to the row of seats in the sea of high school graduates. Afterwards, me and dad went to celebrate in some local Red Lobster restaurant, not worried about the money we would spend after receiving the first paycheck from delivering my blue prints over to the more debts, no more bills, no more threats of landlords wanting to evict me and dad from our tiny apartment home.

Is it naive of me to put all my faith into a total stranger that could have easily been lying to my face by using fancy words to get me interested and handing over money that could be used as a ruse to lure me in some sort of debt? Yes, I can say that this would have surely been too good to be true.

"Miley!" dad calls me from the kitchenette and holding a phone for me. "It's for you, some guy name Phil Coulson?"

I sit on a ugly and dirty couch that was littered with stains of soda and spilled over pizza sauce, staring at my dad with surprise before getting quickly onto my feet and stealing the phone from his big, chubby fingers, bringing the device to my ear and walking around him to let him pass so he can go to the couch and watch more of the Superbowl airing today.

"Hello?" I say to the speaker of the phone.

"Congratulations graduate," came the first words of the man I hadn't seen or heard in almost a whole year.

"Thank you, Mr. Coulson."

"Now that High School is out of the way, we can finally get down to business. My boss would very much like to meet you..."

That made sense. School would have gotten in the way if I was being impatient in wanting to join the agency that promised to provide money and resources for me and my dad. I take a quick look around our dirty and cramped apartment, my face scrunching in disgust to see a small group of cockroaches gathering around some bread crumbs dad accidentally dropped and we had no brooms or mops to clean the mess. I want to have enough money to find a better home with good living conditions and no drug-dealing neighbors that brought buddies with them to make noise. I also want to meet the man that I will undoubtedly work in he near future, I want to see with my own two eyes if this is worth giving my all for.

"I'm listening."

Within a short week dad won a free vacation in some hotel at Palm Springs, Colorado.

I have to tip my hat for the wonderful and incredible effort the people of this agency are pulling just to get me to meet my would-be boss. Clever planning, impressive incognito skills, and brilliant undercover work, I'm in a high class bus next to dad on the way to Colorado and dad didn't suspect a thing about what was going on before his eyes. Although the whole thing is false, I had not felt this happy in such a long time and I bet my bottom dollar that dad was having the same feeling, too.

Getting dropped off in some fancy hotel, me and dad hit a couple tourist hot spots, exploring and just having a blast. The look on dad's face when we were on top or Pike's Peek was something akin to the man lighting up like the 4th of July, it's amazing. All the excitement finally went down and our exhaustion led us to return back to our hotel room. With some energy left in him, dad decided to go ahead and catch a swim in the pool down below on the first floor.

And now here I am, watching some program on television, not five minutes after dad leaves the room that there's a knock on my door.

Without that much thought, I open the door and I'm greeted with the sight of several men in black suits, the only one standing out the most is a bald man in glasses.

"Ms. O'Connor?"

"Yes?" I squeak out.

"Jasper Sitwell. I'll be taking you to the base."

"Wait, wait, wait!" I look down the hallway and back to Sitwell. "What about my dad? I have no idea when he'll come back but he's going to freak out if I'm not here!"

"We got that covered. It's an open spa week downstairs."

"...Oh."

These guys are really good.

An hour later of driving and hitching a ride on a chopper (holy shit, she's in a chopper!), the ride leads far inside the rocky landscape of Colorado's nature, finally finding a clearing where in the middle of the deserted landscape is a base with hardcore security officers armed to the teeth, hundreds of people outside doing their thing and I can only imagine how many people are inside the building. A tiny road leading in and out of the place that it finally hits me; what the fuck am I doing here?

The chopper lands and I hesitantly step out, feeling so scared and freaked out of my mind. I'm a High School graduate that was recruited by a complete stranger because him and his boss and their agency found my picture project to be interesting, and they'll be paying me by the thousands if I handed myself over completely to them...? What the hell was in that fruit punch?

I didn't have time to think about planning on how to karate chop Sitwell to unconsciousness and somehow convince the pilot with a gun to his face to get me the fuck out of here and back to the hotel so me and dad will end up on the run from these crazy people, because a deep voice cut through the silence of the almost after dark breeze.

"Miley Ray O'Connor," I slowly turned to face the sound that spoke of order, control, and power. "Glad to finally have you here."

"Who... Who are you...?"

"Fury. Nick Fury."

* * *

**~+~2o12~+~**

**Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean**  
**8:34 a.m.**

Nudging brought me back from the land of sleep and into the reality of awareness.

"Hmm...?" I look around with groggy eyes as everyone is unbuckling from their seats and getting up off their chairs to the opening in the back of the Quinjet. Jackals' is doing the same while trying to free his arm and shoulder from me and I immediately sit up straight, holding the jacket closer to me because of the crisp morning air. "We're here?"

"No, we crash landed." he rolls his eyes at me. "Of course we're here. Now up!"

"Okay, okay," I mutter and unbuckle myself, getting to my feet and groaning as my joints pop back in place, letting myself stretch out to roll the muscles and get them high with alert. "Where's Coulson?"

"Giving the noob a tour. Did you see the way he was acting around that guy? I thought I was looking at a little kid watching his favorite tv show or some shit like that."

"Yeah, I thought he was looking a little... out there."

"Anyway, lets get out and get to it." Jackals followed the rest of the men with me beside him, holding the jacket that Steve Rogers offered on the way here. "Want me to hand the jacket back to your lover-boy?"

"Shut up!" I hiss at him quietly and after a moment I hand the jacket to the tall blond. "Just tell him I said _'thank you'_. Please."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." he mutters and walks off another direction.

I pull back my sunhat and ruffle my hair once again, the feeling of grogginess still there but just growing smaller by in the minutes and I keep myself busy by looking at the multiple Quinjets landing that stored many other people from S.H.I.E.L.D. that are summoned from the call of dire emergency. I open my mouth and give a little yawn then scrunching my face in tiny disgust when the feel of my mouth being dry made me remember I do not have my things and therefore I do not have a tooth brush to take away the awful dry feel of morning breath.

I just hoped that they had extras because I really don't like the idea of having to use my fingers, it just doesn't get the job done. Besides that, I was going to need a shower and an obvious change clothes, preferably my work clothes. The sound of someone giving the order to head inside made me snap out of my inner cataloging and put my brain into action. The Helicarrier is about to take off and the higher it goes, the denser it becomes to breath properly in the air thin atmosphere. I take a quick check around, finding Steve talking to some smaller man and one of S.H.I.E.L.D.s best besides Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff a.k.a. the Black Widow.

I squint my eyes at Steve. Looks like Jackals gave Steve his jacket back after all.

"Bean-sprout!"

I whip my head forward and see Jackals ahead and waving me to follow, the ground beneath my feet rumbling and a definite tell-tale sign that the Helicarrier is about to take lift-off. I chance a glance over my shoulder and my eyes are staring back to those big, blue, expressive eyes. Steve, along with the man that I quickly identify as Dr. Bruce Banner from the media and file in my hands, are staring at me with bug-eyed looks that I quickly turn and dart towards Jackals to follow him inside.

Maria Hill is waiting inside.

"Have fun in Sicily?"

"For the most part."

Led inside with Jackals I'm surprised he has yet to leave to find his station elsewhere in the air fortress so it must mean he's also needed in this, I can hear the footsteps behind me follow as well and no doubt it's Agent Romanoff, Dr. Banner, and Steve a few feet behind me with small wisps of light conversation going on. We are led to the main meeting room, whilst the two other men are looking at the place in awe and at the same time some caution under the watchful eyes of Jackals, Maria turns her attention to both me and Romanoff.

"I have a really important question if you don't mind. Why am I needed in here? I thought I was suppose to go down under or head to my office."

Surprisingly, Natasha is the one to explain why so.

"You were the one that spent most time with Dr. Selvig when conducting investigative research on the Tesseract, therefore you're the one he talked to you the most on what he found out about it so far."

I may be smart an' all but by God I felt stupid around these people.

"Right." I mutter.

"So that's why Fury wants you working with Dr. Banner." Maria quickly adds.

"WHAT?" I squawk, quickly shutting up and peeking over my shoulder to the others guys to see them give us little odd looks before I turn back to the two older women. "Is... Is that safe?"

"He wouldn't be here right now if we didn't think it was safe."

"Yeah right, you and everyone in this agency are crazy risk-taking maniacs." I hiss under my breath.

"I never heard you complaining before."

"That's because _you_ won't be spending a lot of time with a man who can go green the second someone cracks a small insult at his direction."

Before more can be discussed about the hazards of working with bi-polar non-jolly green giants the entrance of the meeting room opens and in comes the mastermind of the whole operations, the one who called in the best of his agents, and the man who sees all with a single dark eye; Director Nick Fury.

All of us, me, Maria, Romanoff, and Jackals stiffen in alert and pose immediate attention to our boss, leaving Bruce and Steve feeling a little out of the loop of the circle of top agents. Coulson is behind Fury's heels and looking back to himself, I know now that I really want to help Jackals corner Coulson so we can interrogate him. Dressed all in dark clothes and giving off that aura of power and control, he scopes around to look each of our faces and I feel dread at the pit of my stomach when he stops to me.

"Where have you been?" he asks, more like demands from me as he gives me a once-over.

"I was in Italy, sir." I weakly reply, looking and feeling so pathetic before this bigger powered man who ruled us all with an iron fist.

I have to say that his eye looked much more sharper than Clint's and I can feel it burning a gaping hole on my small form.

"You are dismissed." he says and I feel like I can crumble away into millions of little pieces. "Come back when you're decent."

"Yes, sir." I quietly scurry past the group, ignoring Jackals amused face.

Fuck my life.


End file.
